


if it's all in my head, tell me now

by cecilia095



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, New Years, Please Get Together Sometime Before Season 34, Post-Canon, We Love a Good Slow Burn Tho, We're Begging You
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-08
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-12 16:08:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28638291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecilia095/pseuds/cecilia095
Summary: “Back in my office yesterday, you said you were loyal to me, right? Why?” |post-22x04 'Sightless in a Savage Land'
Relationships: Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr./Amanda Rollins
Comments: 24
Kudos: 115





	if it's all in my head, tell me now

**Author's Note:**

> So it's 22x04, but after Barba and Fin leave the bar, so does Kat. Olivia? Let's pretend she doesn't show up right away; too emo about Barba or somethin'. (I know I was.) Anyway... this little fic is what happens between Carisi and Rollins in my head after, and I'm going to live in this universe for awhile. :)
> 
> The title is from 'Tolerate It' by Taylor Swift, because what else have I listened to since Evermore came out? Hint: Nothing.

“Here, guys.” Kat frantically slides the next round of drinks over to Carisi and Rollins and then lifts her left wrist into view, looking down at her watch.

Here’s Carisi’s guess: Someone important just texted her, and she’s gotta run just like Barba and Fin did, leaving the Carisi-Rollins Party of Two to themselves.

“Those were still on me, but I’ve gotta run. My girl and I are re-doing New Year’s Eve, and I’ve still got my work clothes on," she explains, wiggling her brows at them.

“Go, go,” Rollins insists with a wave, and the two detectives exchange quick goodbyes and ‘see ya’s and Kat quietly congratulates again Carisi on her way out the door.

“She’s sweet,” he comments.

“Yeah. Yeah, she’s good people,” Rollins agrees, lifting her glass up to her pursed lips, debating on whether or not to take another sip. “S—She tried to send me home when we showed up at the scene on New Year’s Eve. Y'know, because of the kids.”

“You obviously stayed,” Carisi flatly jokes.

“The kids were with you, they — I wasn’t worried. You’re their Godfather for a reason.”

“Watchin’ a four-year-old sleep up until 11:59 and then wake up to blow on a party horn was one of my easier babysittin’ gigs.”

She suddenly looks apologetic, her face falling, brows furrowed. “Y—You’re not their _sitter_ , Carisi. I didn’t mean it like that.”

He raises a brow himself now, taking a long sip of his beer before saying anything, and then it just slips out. “Then what am I, huh?”

“I _told_ you,” Rollins says a little sharper than he thinks she intended to, “their Godf—“

He squints his eyes, cautious to not look disappointed to her. He thinks she's a little too tipsy to decipher his moods, but he treads lightly anyway. He's not disappointed in _her_ , he's... well, he's disappointed in them and this dance they've been doing for the last five years. It's taken five years just to get to this point; this conversation that he's not sure will even make a difference.

“Back in my office yesterday, you said you were loyal to me, right?”

Wordlessly, she nods with confidence, the glass of vodka she’s holding blocking more of her face than Carisi would prefer it to be blocking. He’s always been pretty good at reading her when he’s got a good look at her face.

“Why?” he presses. “I mean, Barba and you go way back... Fin was your first-ever partner...”

“Yeah, but I guess we just...” She stops to rub her lips together, words about to form, but then she just takes another sip of her drink. She’s nervous, or just not in the mood to talk to him about anything like this. He can’t tell.

“'Manda.”

It's serious when he's saying her name like that.

“Carisi, why are you askin’ me this? Let’s just —“ She stops to lean further onto the tabletop, her elbow rubbing against his own when she does. “We’re here to celebrate you, okay?”

“And we can do that, _afta'_ you answer my question.”

She’s quiet again, but it’s better than running. At least she’s not running away from this conversation; from him.

With another swig of beer, he continues. 

“Rollins, you invited me over to your place so I wouldn’t be alone on New Year’s. I’m a superstitious guy myself, but I don’t remember readin’ anything about bad luck when you spend it alone.”

“Look it up, I swear.”

“You fell asleep on me — _before_ nine-thirty — and you stayed there until the Amber Alert. You didn’t even wake up and freak out. The Amanda Rollins I met years ago would’ve jumped up and kicked me outta the apartment.”

"Hey, no she wouldn't've!"

"Oh, yes she would've."

She's biting the inside of her cheek, setting her vodka glass firmly on the table, one of her fingers nervously sliding back and forth across the rim. 

"I really crashed before nine-thirty?" she asks with a laugh and a lip bite.

"Eight-fifteen," he confirms with a smirk, and she swats him on the arm for it.

This is how it goes between them; a serious conversation turns into comfortability and familiarity, because they're each other's best friends and they can't help it. Rollins is having a bad day at the precinct without him and needs to vent over dinner and wine he promises to bring over? Fine, but four minutes later they're laughing at the way Jesse is messily twisting her spaghetti and asking Uncle Sonny when she gets to become an Italian like him.

"Damn. I feel old."

"We _are_ ," he teases, "we crashed on your couch after two slices of pizza and half a beer."

"Yeah, I guess we are."

"Well." He smacks his lips together and pushes his empty beer aside. He's not sure his Pepto-filled stomach can handle a, what is this, _fourth... fifth_ round? "What else are we?"

" _Dominick_."

"I just wanna know. It's not like I'm gonna go set our Facebook to 'In a Relationship' or anythin' like that, Rollins."

The thought of that makes her laugh, and then she becomes annoyed when she realizes how public everything on Facebook is, and also how nosy everyone on Facebook is. He assures her that Mrs. Carisi will _never_ have to know her answer, despite Amanda being at the forefront of a lot of their mother-and-son conversations, lately. He keeps the last part quiet, though.

"Y—You're — you're my best friend, my — my partner." Admitting stuff like this isn't easy for her, he knows. He folds his hands in his lap, steadies his gaze on her even though she's looking down at her fingernails instead of him. He's waited this long; he's fine with her taking her time. "You're like a dad to my girls, they, they obviously love you, and — I don't know. I don't know if I want to spend my time with anyone else anymore, y'know?"

He lifts his left hand out of his lap and gently places it over hers, without too tight of a grip. He's waiting for her to squirm her own hand out from underneath his, but she doesn't. "I know."

"And I want..." she stumbles over her words — probably a mix of the vodka, the nervousness, and the fact that their Captain is on the way to this very bar table right now to meet them for a celebratory drink. "I want to be together, eventually, or — or now. We're basically together anyway, right?"

His cheeks feel hot, and all he can manage is a, "Right."

"I'm not good at tellin' someone how I feel about them, y'know. Especially not someone who feeds me, listens to me complain about work, walks my dog when I'm too tired to do it myself, makes my own girls laugh more than I do sometimes... you know. You just do all these _things_ for me; you have for years. I have no idea why."

"I'm startin' to think," he starts, leaning in a little closer to her. He's a little self-conscious of the stale taste of beer on his breath, but she's not backing away from him. If anything, she's looking at him more now than she has since this outing started. "I think I'd do anything for you. That's... that's gotta mean somethin', and we don't — we don't have 'ta figure that all out _now_ , but we will."

She leans forward and sets a hand on his knee, giving it a squeeze. It feels like a promise.

He doesn't say anything else, because Dominick Carisi's New Year's resolution for 2021 is to learn when to stop talking. Now is one of those very moments.

They hear the faint sound of a familiar voice, at least he does, but the voice quickly finds its way to the bar, and he finds himself pulling both of his arms up and around Amanda, tugging her in. He wordlessly brushes a finger through her hair and pushes it aside, and surprises himself with what he does next. He's still not sure how to navigate... any of this. The boundaries between them. Or, the boundaries he's allowed to cross, now. The boundaries she's probably been waiting for him to cross, too.

He presses his lips to her forehead and leaves them there for a second, her skin feeling toasty under his. She closes her eyes and accepts it, right there at this bar table. She looks... comfortable. More comfortable than he remembers seeing her in a very long time.

"Hey you two..." The familiar voice gets closer to their table, causing Carisi to hastily pull his lips off of Rollins' forehead. It's Olivia. Captain Olivia Benson, whose a little tardy and also looks a little teary-eyed, but quickly swipes anything that might've been under her eyes away. "I miss something important?"


End file.
